


The Life That I Missed

by Nivelle



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, almost canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-03-05 20:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18835993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nivelle/pseuds/Nivelle
Summary: “I mean”, Steve hesitates for a moment, a whirlwind of emotions dancing over his face, “That means we can go back home now, right?”There’s too much hope in Steve’s face for Bucky to handle. He looks down at his cup. It has little white sheep on the outside of it. The black one on the inside stands with its feet in cocoa.“Buck?” Steve sounds worried now. He’s probably been silent for too long. He should say something. How do words work? Where do you find them?“Yeah, I suppose”, Bucky says, not breaking his eye-contact with the black sheep.“You don’t want to go home?” The disappointment is audible.Bucky slowly shakes his head. “Can’t”, he corrects and considers that for a few moments before he adds: “I am home.”





	1. A way home

**Author's Note:**

> I know there are millions of stories like this out there. I'm writing this mostly for myself to deal with the end of Endgame, but maybe someone will still want to read this one. All similarities to other fics are probably coincidence, I have read only one before I started writing and then stopped to not end up accidentally stealing things from others.
> 
> So this is my headcanon of what might have happened, with a lot of love and thanks to my sister who doesn't really care about the MCU anymore but read the summery on Wikipedia for me to talk about the movie long after midnight and to my friend who pointed out that there are a million scenes missing from Endgame so who knows what really happened there and why.
> 
> This story would probably fit into one chapter or two, but there are a couple of jumps and switches in pov, so I feel it's easier to follow if those parts are separated. They will vary a lot in length.

“So, I was thinking...” Steve trails off and the silence returns to the kitchen. But it’s a different kind of silence then before he broke it. This new silence invites speaking, it doesn’t want to be here in the kitchen with them.

Bucky sighs and wonders briefly if his mind has always worked like that. Personifying things like that. Guess he’ll never know for sure. He looks up from the cup his flesh hand is curled around for warmth. The sweet smell of hot chocolate lingers in the air.

“That can’t be good”, Bucky says.

Steve’s eyes meet his. “I don’t know. It’s just… time travel is something I never thought possible.”

Bucky feels his hand grab the cup tighter and waits for Steve to continue.

“I mean”, Steve hesitates for a moment, a whirlwind of emotions dancing over his face, “That means we can go back home now, right?”

There’s too much hope in Steve’s face for Bucky to handle. He looks down at his cup. It has little white sheep on the outside of it. The black one on the inside stands with its feet in cocoa.

“Buck?” Steve sounds worried now. He’s probably been silent for too long. He should say something. How do words work? Where do you find them?

“Yeah, I suppose”, Bucky says, not breaking his eye-contact with the black sheep.

“You don’t want to go home?” The disappointment is audible.

Bucky slowly shakes his head. “Can’t”, he corrects and considers that for a few moments before he adds: “I am home.”

He doesn’t say: _Everyone I know is here._ _I_ _barely remember that home on good days. It feels like those memories belong to someone else. I had to look up my sister’s name on the internet and found out about another one in the process and I can’t remember anything about her at all. And how the hell am I supposed to explain my left arm?_

When he looks up, Steve has an odd expression on his face. Smiling but far away and kinda sad. “I just can’t stop thinking about it. Going back, getting a chance to live the life I wanted to have.”

“Marrying Agent Carter and having a whole bunch of stubborn little shits”, Bucky supplies with a grin. Teasing helps to hide that he is absolutely not prepared to be away from Steve again. His best friend doesn’t need to know about that.

Apparently it works judging from the bashful smile and the pink cheeks. “Yeah. Maybe.”

The kitchen falls silent again. Bucky takes a sip from his cup. When he looks at the black sheep again its feet are dry.

“You really want to have that life with Peggy, huh”, Bucky finally says.

Steve sighs and nods. “Yeah, I just… it’s home. I wanna go home, Buck.”

There is a memory in his head. Finding the small, skinny version of his friend in a back alley, face bloody and swollen. His nose is probably broken and he keeps trying to stand up, but his right foot won’t have it. Bucky remembers his own frustration as Steve refuses to hang on to him more than absolutely necessary because of his goddamn pride. He remembers threatening him with carrying him like a baby if he doesn’t hold still and let him take care of his injuries. It feels like that happened a lot, not just this once. And it is tied to this other one, one with blood and dirt everywhere. Steve is as big as he is now in that memory, so it must be newer. Probably during the war. It would explain all those dead bodies around them. They’re both breathing hard, exchanging a quick look to make sure the other is okay before they search the Hydra base. That night, back in their tent, Steve ends up silently crying in Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky just holds him tight. In the following morning Bucky finds Steve sitting outside with his sketchbook, staring at a page, face unreadable, and closing it hastily when he notices Bucky. All Bucky could catch was a glimpse of Brooklyn. When Steve turns to look at him, he has the same expression he is wearing right now. Something like longing mixed with weariness, probably. Like he doesn’t want to fight every one who crosses his path in the wrong manner anymore. It’s weirdly unsettling.

“It’s okay, Steve.” Bucky manages a smile. “You should take that chance.”

“Are you going to be okay here?” He might as well say _Because if not I would stay with you as long as you want me_ out loud.

Bucky rolls his eyes at that. “I’m not the one of us who constantly finds someone to pick a fight with, punk.”

“Bucky.”

“Honestly? I’ll miss you. But going home is what you want, right? You get to live that life you always dreamed about. It’ll make you happy.”

“I hope. I think it will. Are you sure?”

“Stop worrying about me for once.” It comes out harsher than intended. Bucky takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna be fine. I’ve got Sam and Shuri is great. She and her brother offered a place in Wakanda, so maybe I’ll go live there for a while again. Although I think she’s mostly interested in upgrading my arm as a science project. It almost feels like a real one now. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah.” But it doesn’t sound overly convinced.

Bucky sighs. He’s not sure how long he can keep this up before he throws himself over the table and clings to Steve, begging him to never ever leave him alone. Or yell at him that he is very much able of living on his own and doesn’t need Steve to constantly worry about him. Both of those options a awful in their own way. Both of them would hurt everyone involved.

“Look”, Bucky says, his voice calm and even, “I’m not going to convince you to do anything. I’m just telling you that I understand why you might want to go and that I’m going to be okay with whatever decision you’re going to make, as long as it makes you happy.”

Steve doesn’t respond to that immediately. Only after Bucky has emptied his cup and put it in the dishwasher, he smiles softly at him. “Thank you, Buck.”

Bucky smiles back and then leaves the kitchen with a mumbled “sleep well” so Steve can’t see the miserable look on his face.

 

 

The next morning is beautiful and Bucky hates it. Heavy dark clouds full of rain would be more appropriate in his opinion. Maybe the water would interfere with Banners time travel equipment, preventing Steve from leaving. But they’d probably just move it inside and let Steve jump from there.

They walk together to the place Banner chose to set up. Steve is already wearing the suit and keeps glancing sideways at Bucky like he’s expecting an emotional breakdown any second. After the thirty-seventh Bucky stops, grabbing his friends arm and looking him dead in the eye. His annoyance does wonders to cover up everything he doesn’t want Steve to see. At least he thinks so.

“Stop looking at me like that. It’s gonna be fine.”

“You don’t look fine”, Steve points out. “I would come back for you.”

“I know.” That’s the hardest part of this. “But you’ve got the chance to get your girl, Stevie. That’s what you want, right?”

“Yeah, I know, but -”

“Steve”, Bucky interrupts and is a little bit proud when his voice comes out steady, “you deserve to be happy.”

He means it. He wishes he was enough, but he knows he isn’t. Not if there’s a way for Steve to get what he always wanted.


	2. Back home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than expected. I've had (or have, but it's getting much better now) a real life thing that demanded my full attention. If anyone was waiting, I'm sorry. Especially because this is so short. But it doesn't fit with what comes next and that threatens to become very long, so that's that I guess.

 

The apartment looks even smaller with Steve in it. God, it is surreal. Sitting at their table, hands resting on its cool surface, fingers entwined and occasionally tightening around the other’s, holding on, making sure this isn’t just a dream. No matter how hard Peggy squeezes he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t dissolve into thin air. Instead he squeezes right back, reassuringly – though if that’s for her or for him Peggy doesn’t know. And at the moment she couldn’t care less about such technicalities. Steven Grant Rogers is sitting in her apartment.

 

Peggy’s fist instinct as she saw him standing in the hallway had been to blink and carefully look again. It hadn’t been the first time her mind tricked her into believing that she caught a glimpse of Steve hiding behind his glass in a restaurant. Or saw him crossing the street out of the corner of her eye. Or sitting on a bench, sketching pigeons, plants and passersby. Seeing him linger just outside her apartment wasn’t that much different.

Except this time the man still looked like Steve Rogers awkwardly holding a bouquet of flowers in her direction after the second look. And the third. And the twenty-third.

“Peggy.” His voice was breaking. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I missed our date.”

“You damn well better are, Captain.”

 

The flowers are now placed in a vase on the table, forming a triangle with the steaming cups of tea in front of them. There are so many things Peggy wants to say, she doesn’t know where to start. Steve seems to have a similar problem, he keeps staring at her like he can’t believe this is real either, like she’s a ghost. She knows that feeling only too well.

While they both try to find the right words to begin the conversation they indubitably need to have Peggy soaks in every detail of Steve she can get. And suddenly the words just stumble out of her mouth.

“You look different.”

If Steve is surprised by that statement it doesn’t show. “I’m wearing a real suit”, he says.

“That, yes, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed this nicely and out of uniform.” Peggy frowns. “But that is not all. You seem... older.” _Older_ in want of a better word. Because there is none in the English language that conveys accurately the meaning of _having seen the world end, survived too often, just wanting to come home to a home that’s been lost._

“I am.” Steve takes a deep breath, lets it out in a sigh and rubs his free hand over his face. He looks so tired. “I know it sounds crazy. But it’s been twelve years for me since the plane crashed.”

Internally, Peggy agrees with that assessment. It does sound crazy, fitting twelve years into the space of barely one. “What happened?”

 

Steve’s story is a long one. Twelve years are a long time. She can see him think, presumably searching for a way to begin. It’s nice seeing him like that. It’s an expression that Peggy is familiar with, one she’s seen him wear countless times. For the first time this night Peggy truly feels like the Steve she remembers, missed and loves has come back. So she waits for him to find the words to tell his story and watches him while he thinks. She could do this all night.

 

Eventually, Steve starts to talk. Peggy is certain he is leaving out a lot of details. She wonders if the only reason for that is because they are even harder to believe than fighting aliens who want another alien to rule Earth. Or being frozen and waking up almost seventy years later like Sleeping Beauty. Or finding five more stones like the one Hydra used to create their weapons. Or having friends who figure out time travel in the space of weeks.

Peggy can’t even begin to imagine what could be less believable than a big purple alien killing half the universe with one snap of his fingers. If Steve weren’t that terrible a liar, she wouldn’t even try to wrap her head around this story that sounds like the kind of dream you have in the morning when you fall back asleep after waking up too early.

“I could not not take that opportunity”, Steve ends. “Going home, being with you. I mean, if you’d want to. I don’t -”

Peggy feels herself smile and leans over the table for a kiss, effectively making Steve’s self-doubts shut up.

 

~

 

It feels different than he remembers, kissing Peggy. They are not in a moving – speeding – car trying to catch a plane. That probably impacts the experience. It feels nice though. Not the way he imagined. But his brain had over a decade to conjure up impossible expectations about how it would be to kiss Peggy again and blow them out of proportion, so it’s not exactly a surprise this kiss isn’t everything he dreamed of. It can’t be everything. It is something. It should be enough. With that in mind he tells his brain to shut up and enjoys the moment.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any notes or thoughts?
> 
> If you want you can find me [here](https://whoisnivelle.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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